


Protegé

by untilweseeawingshot



Series: Team Free Will Bingo [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilweseeawingshot/pseuds/untilweseeawingshot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TFW Bingo prompt: Character – Bela Talbot<br/>The reader is a trader/thief and an old friend of Bela’s who the boys are less than impressed to come across.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protegé

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N = Your Name

Crap. She’d warned you about them for sure, damn hunters. What were they even doing here? They couldn’t possibly know the value of any of these pieces.

_“Sam! What are we looking for here?”_

_“This.” You can hear the scrabble of someone unfolding a piece of paper and try to peek out from your hiding place, “It’s a middle eastern type of amulet called a Khamsa or Hamsa”_

_“Looks freaky…”_

_“They were generally used for protection against something called the ‘Evil Eye’ Kind of like what we would call someone giving you a death glare but it actually could result in illness, bad luck and yeah, death.”_

_“If it’s not a bad thing why are we looking for it?”_

_“This particular one belonged to the Men of Letters, no one knows how it disappeared but one day it just did. And since we have a witch on our hands it might come in handy.”_

You carefully take your phone out of your pocket and re read the message your client sent you. Yep, just as you thought; they’re looking for exactly the same thing as you.

_“Dean! Put that down!”_

_“Aw, c’mon Sam! How often do you actually get to touch these things?”_

Dean? Sam? Shit. Not just hunters, Winchesters.

_//_

_“Winchesters?” You think it over for a moment, “Never heard of them.”_

_“Just be on your watch.” Bela takes a drink from her glass, “They mighty just look and act like ordinary hunters, but they’ve both actually got a brain. They know what they’re talking about and how to deal with it.” She grins “On the bright side they are nice to look at,” She winks at you and you laugh in response._

_“Don’t worry about me, I can handle a couple of pretty boy hunters Bel,” You hold up the bottle, “More Champagne my friend?”_

_“Oh, Y/N you do spoil me!”_

_//_

That was her lasting warning to you, watch out for the Winchesters and now they were here, within whispering distance of you. There is no way you’re going to let them steal your prize.   
Creeping out from your hiding place you try to keep quieter than normal, slowing your breathing stopping every so often to take stock of where they are.  
You’re less than three feet from them when you spot it. The wall to wall pristine glass display case on your right; The Khamsa, carved out of black jet, the eye in the middle painted red, all set on what appears to be silver backing.

You know on instinct that they haven’t seen it yet, but if they have a picture which you unfortunately don’t they are going to see it in a matter of seconds. You rarely get your hands dirty but this time the client was far too specific for you to send somebody else.

All it takes is one wrongly placed footstep, one creaky floor board and the rest happens in a flash. They’ve seen it and you know it. The taller one is holding you back before you can get even halfway there and the other is at the case, carefully picking the lock.

“Shit.” You mumble under your breath when the case clicks open.

And then, the deafening alarms begin to sound.

“Oh, son of a bitch!”

“Dean, we need to get out of here now!”

“Then drop her and let’s go!”

“We can’t just leave her here Dean.”

You’re kind of grateful for that, you aren’t the best at running so if you’re with them they’ll make sure you keep up; and if that’s Dean then the tall one at your back must be Sam.

“Fine. Just hurry up.”

That simple statement leaves the three of you sprinting through corridors and numerous different exhibits. You’ve lived here for years and you didn’t even realise the museum was this big.

“This way!” Sam calls to you, grabbing your arm as you turn a sharp corner.

You see the exit door just as Dean slams into it, forcing it open.

The next thing you know you’re being shoved into the back seat of a shiny, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, onto the worn but comfortable leather seats. Sam and Dean both in the front then you’re speeding off.

For the first few minutes you aren’t aware of conversation at all, let alone that it’s directed at you. You’re too busy trying to slow your heart rate and calm your breathing to care; the adrenaline is now starting to wane and you’re left with the horror that you are in a car with two hunters.

“Hey,” Sam reaches back and gives your shoulder a tap, “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” You take a deep laboured breath, “I just haven’t run like that since high school.”

He smiles and you can see his brothers smirk in the rear view mirror.

“You don’t look any better hot shot.”

The smirk falls, his gaze set firmly back on the road in front of you.

“I’m Sam and thi- - …”

Sam begins to speak but you cut him off. “I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you both.”

“Okay then,” He runs a hand through his hair, “Well who are you?”

“Why should I tell you?” You force yourself to lean back as far as you can away from him and fold your arms across your chest.

“Aside from the fact that we just saved your ass?” Dean speaks up, once again fixing you with a glare through the rear view.

“Screw you, ass-hat.”

“We aren’t going to turn you in if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sam’s voice is much softer than his brothers.

“You can’t your car is extremely distinctive. If you even tried the cops would know the two of you were involved as well; don’t see many ’67 Chevy Impalas around now-a-days.”

Once again Dean’s eyes flick up, but this time he looks impressed.

“How the hell do you know that?”

“My dad used to have one, granted it wasn’t black it was more of a grey-blue type colour. But still I’d recognise one anywhere.” You sigh, “I’m Y/N.”

“That it, no last name?” Sam asks you, giving you a strange look which you return with a raised eye brow ‘Are you stupid?’ one.

“Not one that I’m going to tell you.”

“Fine, fair enough.” He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Now, I don’t suppose I could persuade you to part with that delightful little piece of ancient craftsmanship?”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Oh, no… You’re not one of those are you? Those little thieves for hire who steals to order…”

“Yes, I am. That’s how I heard about the two of you. Bela Talbot ring a bell?”

“I thought she was dead?”

“She is. But she taught me everything I know, she told me all about the two of you as well.”

You sink further into the seat, refusing to say anything more.

“Anyway, where do you want dropping off kid?” Dean’s watching you, rather than the road, again.

“Wherever, just drop me off in a back street somewhere and I can make my way back alone. Don’t need the two of you knowing where I live.”

“Well tough.” His voice hardens “We ran from the cops with you, so we’re going to make sure you get home safe.”

“Just drop me at the Poppy Fields Motel. I’ll stay there tonight and go home in the morning.”

“That’s easy enough.”

“Oh, no… You two are staying there aren’t you?”

“Yes ma’am.” Dean nods, smirking to himself as he does so.

At least that gives you another opportunity to grab your prize and run.

//

It’s dark and quiet inside the motel room when you’re crouched outside the door picking the lock.

“Yes!” you grin to yourself as you hear the small tell-tale click of the lock giving way.

“Beer?”

You let out a small shout of surprise and jump back. It’s only Sam and Dean is nowhere you can see.

“We aren’t that stupid. Dean is taking the Khasma somewhere safe as we speak.” His arm is still extended offering you the bottle.

“Thanks.” You mumble, taking it from him and sitting in the chair at the table opposite his own. “Y’know, she warned me specifically about the two of you. Said that you weren’t like normal hunters, you actually had brains.”

“Wow, what a compliment…” Sam rolls his eyes.

“Hey, from people that do what I do, it is.” You grin. “Your brother coming back?”

“Not until tomorrow.”

“Good. Because I never checked into a room, just asked what yours was.” You get up and throw yourself on the neatly made bed.

Sam laughs at you and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“Goodnight Sam.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”


End file.
